Yamazaki: Nature Warrior
by jojoDO
Summary: Because what really saves the animals is a smiling weirdo who lives with his hand in his pants.


"WE'RE ON IN 60! WHERE IS SHE!"

"She's coming, she's coming. Uhhh... ARE YOU COMING?!"

"Will you give me one second? My lipstick is... ugh...there."

"You done yet?!"

"I'M DONE! I'M COMING!"

"20 SECONDS!"

"Alright, alrig- ooh, is my hair out of...?"

"MISS KAGURA!"

"Alright alright, I'm here!"

"OKAY! WE ARE ROLLING IN 5...4...3...2..."

A slow, somber melody began to churn out, coupled with a compilation of footage in the wilderness, seemingly focused around one cat-like animal in particular. The footage would switch every five seconds or so, introducing yet another piece of the hard-earned screentime they managed to capture of the breath-taking wildlife. Their majestic spots littered their fur: a healthy glow of orange with white underbellies. Big, powerful, well built... but beautiful enough that one would have to resist the urge to touch their magnificent features.

"This is the Amur Leopard." a female's solemn voice could be heard narrating. "Every year, more and more of these magnificent animals are lost to poaching, habitat destruction, unlawful captivity and trading. Their time is growing slimmer with each passing day. We need your help now... more than ever."

All remaining footage of the Amur Leopard had finally been spent; with no more resources on hand to exhibit the endangered animal, the camera switched to a shot of Chizuru Kagura, staring directly at the camera with heartfelt eyes, her hands clasped together as if this were her most desperate hour.

_**CHIZURU KAGURA: WILDLIFE PRESERVATION SPOKESPERSON**_

"With your help, we can save these precious animals from extinction." she hammed it up with a pleading voice. "With just a small donation, you can do your part towards getting these animals the help they desperately need. Please call our number at 1800-295-HELP. That's 1800-295-HELP. For just pennies out of your pocket, you could be making a huge stride in our efforts to save these animals, to give them a chance at life! They deserve the opportunity to repopulate, to thrive in a new habitat, without the danger of being hunted for their skin, or their homes destroyed. So please, call today. And thank you... for helping."

The painfully dismal music droned on for a few more agonizing seconds before the commercial finally ended.

"AND CUT! That's a print. We got it."

Chizuru's professional demeanor faded all at once, her muscles unclenching as she let loose a rather unladylike exhale from her mouth. "Uggggh. I need a drink."

The commercial director rubbed his head woefully. "Hmph. Like a couple of pennies are gonna stop the assholes that hunt those poor things. This is truly a f***ed up world we live in, with remorseless grubbers that don't give a hoot about the consequences of their actions or the lives they destroy, so long as they can get their instant gratification."

Chiruzu shrugged. "Like anyone's gonna send money in either. Everyone watches these commercials and thinks it's not their problem, or maybe they think millions of others will donate instead of them. Sigh... people are so caught up in their habits of indifference. They think they won't make a difference, and that causes a widespread contagion of complacent cowards."

The director sighed. "I appreciate you for coming in and doing this, Miss Kagura. And the money you've donated to the cause is probably more than the collective population will ever muster up. I'm glad YOU at least care."

Chizuru smiled. "I only wish I could do more for them..."

"...So why don't you?"

A foreign voice popped their exclusive conversation bubble, forcing a quick turn of heads to ascertain who had decided to chime in. When they saw who it was, and he was NOT one of the camera crew or personnel on set, they immediately switched to defensive mode.

"H-hey, you're not authorized to be here!" the ignorant director shouted.

Chizuru got in front of him before it was too late. "It's okay, I got this. What do YOU want?"

"...I want you to answer a simple question for me." the black-clad intruder smiled as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Tell me something... what saves the animals? A cheesy commercial? A few phone calls with automated naggers? Some pennies dug out of your couch cushions?"

Chizuru got defensive. "What you want me to do? Be God?"

A sharp little snigger. "Heh heh heh! God? God doesn't care. He's let plenty of species die out over the millennia. He'd rather kick back in his recliner and watch the death and destruction play out, all in the name of his 'bigger plan'. Whenever or whatever the hell that is. I for one don't feel like waiting for it like some blind pious moron. I prefer to DO."

Chizuru maintained her expression, as to not show weakness. "What could you possibly do about it?"

"Oh I could do a LOT. My resume is pretty colorful already, but I could add 'protector of endangered wildlife' to that bad boy."

Chizuru's aloof facade finally broke, as she found herself shamefully trapped in his curious web. "Y-you would help them?"

Another drag of his cigarette, followed by an exhale of smoke from his nostrils. "Yeah. Maybe I would. But I can tell you right now, I ain't digging money out of my dresser drawer or talking to some annoying robot on the phone. You want to stop assholes from poaching them? I can take care of that MY WAY. It won't be pretty and it won't be no Kumbaya bullshit, but it'll be plenty fun for me. But first thing's first, I'll need a little 'donation' of my own."

"Is this guy serious?" the director chimed in.

"Hard to tell. He's crazy like that." Chizuru groaned.

The director had heard enough. "Alright, enough of this nonsense. Security, please get this guy out of-"

"WAIT. That's not a good idea." Chizuru warned.

"I agree." the blonde stranger grinned.

The director was starting to get a little restless. "Look, I've had a long day and I want to go home already. Why the hell do we need to sit here and entertain some lunatic?"

"...Because he's right. He's goddamn right." Chizuru said with a stern, commanding voice that nearly convinced the director right then and there.

"M-Miss Kagura, you don't me-"

Chizuru sharply spun around, leaning closer so her eyes fixated on his. "Weren't we just talking about how nobody makes a difference? Well newsflash: sappy commercials and a little money aren't gonna do a damn thing to change it. So we can either keep bitching about it... or hire a professional."

Having been trumped by a harsh logic, the director could do nothing but look away with a shrug of his shoulders. The way he averted his eyes said that he KNEW this was the right thing to do... even if it wasn't the status quo.

With a nod, Chizuru turned back around to face the stranger. "Name your price... Yamazaki."

His identity revealed, Ryuji Yamazaki reached into his mouth, removed his cigarette, flicked it on the ground, giving it a nice twist of his boot... and his hand emerged from his pocket.

**NORTHEASTERN CHINA**

He reached up to adjust his green camouflage hat, followed by a scratching of his grizzled beard. He almost forgot he had a beer in his hand: cracking open the top, he took a nice swig before setting it down to return to his tent.

The tenacious hunter had traveled a far ways to get here, lured in by the promise of riches. 3000 big ones, those skins sold for; their critically endangered status had tripled the usual rate. Who would even notice they were gone? There's plenty of other leopards out there anyway: who's gonna miss one measly species?

The rather chubby guy casually sauntered towards his tent, reaching inside to unzip his gun case and pull out his shiny new .308 Winchester, which he had spent a pretty penny on in the midst of his hasty conclusion that this would be an easy payday.

It was about a 5 minute walk to the comfortable little patch of greenery, which provided a nearly 200 yard vantage point of wide open field, while giving him absolute cover. From here, he would sit... and wait... for hours and hours if need be, for one of the coveted leopards to come out and welcome his scope.

He pulled up his sagging pants a few times (the belt failed to do much) as he lowered himself to the ground and got comfy in the dirt. He unshouldered his rifle, resting the stock against his shoulder as he looked down the scope to properly calibrate it. The barrel aimed outwards into the clearing, he adjusted the scope for several crucial, diligent minutes... to the ever persistent hunter, making the scope as clear and accurate as possible would be paramount in bagging his prize.

Minutes went by, and the guy was STILL playing with his scope. He seemed to be getting a little irritated, even. A few mutters spilled out about how his new rifle was a piece of shit, a waste of money, and how he better be able to shoot something or he'd send the thing back with the reciept.

Another minute passed... and he was almost there. His fingers slowly, tenderly adjusted the range... yes... this was it... the image was clearer than it had ever been... it would be impossible for him to miss-

"Yoohoo."

The next thing the slightly overweight hunter was introduced to was a mouthful of dirt. A hand had gripped the back of his skull, slamming him facefirst and cramming so hard, his nostrils could feel the grass violating them deeply.

"MMMRPH! MRRRRPH! MMRRRPH!"

The hunter was finally granted precious oxygen as his face was lifted back upwards, and his entire being along with it. He felt his pants jack up as a hand snatched his belt loops and he was jerked up to his feet. No longer in control of his own body, he stumbled forward... until his face hit a tree dead-on. He immediately tasted blood from two sources, as his lip had split against his teeth, and his nose twisted at a horrid angle, opening up a floodgate of red from his nostils

"AUUUGH! Huh...huh... who are you-mRRRPH!" he only had a few seconds to sputter from his bloody, busted lip before his lungs were once again tested, his face pressed hard against the rough bark of the tree.

"I'm here on behalf of the Amore Leopards. Uh... Amir? Tch, something."

The hunter's loose hanging pants finally lost the battle: or more particularly... they had HELP, as the strange pair of hands forcefully jerked them down to his ankles. The hunter was caught in a strange mix of wanting to ask what he was doing, and pleading for mercy. As his boxers slid down a second later... he had lost his window for words. The next thing that would come from his mouth is a scream.

"Nice rifle. I hope the barrel's smooth."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Satisfied with his work, Yamazaki threw his mark into the dirt and slipped his favorite hand back into his pocket. He left the whimpering, trembling hunter with a kick to his bare ass and a few words to live by:

"Don't hunt endangered animals, bitch."

**THE END**


End file.
